Multiverse Pub: To Absent Friends
by MissMelysse
Summary: RIP Adam West... Robin hosts a wake, of sorts, at a very special pub. Oneshot. Complete. No pairings.


**The Challenge:**

 _Imagine that sometime between the end of TNG and Nemesis, Guinan settled on a planet (or returned to the Nexus) and opened a pub. The Pub at the Center of the MultiVerse._

 _Your challenge: Write a brief oneshot – a crossover with any fandom you like - that takes place in the pub. Guinan does not need to be a main character, but she has to be in it, even if it's just a mention. Just the setting and our favorite bartender's presence make it a crossover. Direct interaction between fandoms is not required._

* * *

 **To Absent Friends**

In the end, they show up in their costumes, because it seems the best way to honor Gotham City's caped crusader.

Besides, Robin thinks, the bartender's hat is just as _outre_ as any of the masks or ears or… catsuits… sported by the men and women he's called to assemble, and the regulars at this pub, which has one door in Gotham and another that leads somewhere else… or anywhere else… He's not entirely sure, but Holy Revolving Doorways Batm –

He cuts off the thought as much because it's too painful, as because there are two buxom women purring in his ears, one on each side, and Holy Attractive Opposites, but he thinks he's a little bit in love with both of them, the one, tall and oozing sex appeal – she and the boss had always flirted, he recalls – the other with a purring voice that makes him want to think bad thoughts, put them into practice and end up as a puddle of satiated goo after the fact.

"The city won't be the same without him," the first Catwoman says.

"Crime has no charm when it's not a game of cat and… flying mouse," the second one replies.

"Maybe I'll go straight." They say it together, lean past the no longer a Boy Wonder and chorus, "Naaah!"

Robin can't help it.

He flees their presence, and bumps into a man with a smile that seems more inappropriate now than it ever did. "Can't quite accept that he's gone," the Joker observes. "Usually it's me doing the disappearing act. Hey, is she one of you or one of us?"

Robin follows the green-haired man's gaze toward a table in the far corner, occupied by a totally green woman. "Holy Photosynthesis!" he says, "That's not Poison Ivy." Actually, the green woman looks a little like Barbara Gordon, but that's just absurd.

"I'm going to go… assess the situation," the criminal mastermind shares. "Listen, thanks for setting this up. When we're all a bit drunker and can exchange stories I'm sure it'll be a real laugh."

"I'm sure it will." Robin's response is non-committal. He's scanning the crowd for Batgirl. After all, he can't be the only Hero of Gotham here tonight.

Eventually, standing near the window that shows a view of the Gotham that Was, back when colors seemed brighter and a simple fist fight – Bam! Pow! KAZAAAAMMM! – really _could_ end a serious crime spree, back when even the crime lords seemed painted in technicolor – Robin senses a presence next to him.

"Losing a friend is never easy," the warm voice says. He turns toward it, and realizes it's the Host. The Bartender with the Hat (he capitalizes that word in his head). "You've done a good thing," she continues, "bringing all his friends together."

"Funny thing is, most of these people were actually his enemies."

The woman in the Hat looks around the room and shakes her head slowly. "No. I don't think so. Adversaries, maybe, but enemies? I don't think so."

"Collectively, these men and women served more jail time because of us than – " Robin begins, but a look from the other stops him short. "What?"

"They may have lived lives that were diametrically opposed to his," she points out, "but they respected him. The honor his memory. And they respect you for letting them in."

"Did you know him?" Robin asks.

"We might have shared the same tailor, for a while," she evades.

Somehow, Robin doesn't doubt that.

Eventually the milling group of people coalesces into a loose semi-circle of pushed together tables and chairs, and the stories start flowing faster than the confession of an evil genius who's finally been caught.

Robin half-listens, joining in the occasional bursts of laughter, swallowing the melancholy moments the way he's been conditioned to do, and even offering a story of his own: the first time he ever drove the Batmobile (without permission) and ended up getting captured…

Drinks are refreshed. Food is eaten. Conversations fall, and rise, and fall again.

As the hours creep toward dawn, Robin looks out at the cityscape and realizes Gotham-that-Was has slowly morphed into Gotham-that-Is, and more, that every building with a bat-signal has engaged their beam, sending their hero (their antagonist), the symbol of their city off on his next adventure with grace and class and a touch of whimsy.

Tomorrow, next week, he'll put the mask and tights back in their box, and face another such party dressed to the nines, the dutiful ward-cum-adopted son of Bruce Wayne putting on a brave face.

Tonight?

Tonight, he's with the people who truly get it. Get him.

And the lady with the Hat is right. It's not easy. And he has done a good thing.

"Robin… Robin, you should say something." It's Batgirl – finally appearing at his side.

He hesitates as all the eyes, some covered in make-up, some peering at him from behind masks, focus on him. Waiting.

"To absent friends," he says, lifting his glass in the traditional toast to the dear departed. Then he smiles. "We've come a long way from the Prime Minister's exploding cake."

There's a pause.

And then there's laughter.

Both Catwomen lift their glasses in his direction.

And the Joker? He's laughing loudest of all.

* * *

 **Notes:** In honor of Adam West, the Batman of my childhood (in reruns, but, still…) I met him at Dallas ComicCon a couple years ago. He was very sweet and wickedly funny. RIP, Mr. West. The green girl who isn't Poison Ivy is actually a reference to the fact that Yvonne Craig, who played Barbara Gordon/Batgirl also played Marta the Orion Slavegirl in an episode of the original Star Trek. The line about exploding cake is from the episode "Smack in the Middle."


End file.
